Just Another Rose
by Lyra Script
Summary: "It's not your rose exactly, but its still special."


I was lost. Drained, empty, hallow, with both heart breaking... She's gone. The fact of it echoes around inside of me like a voice over the mountains. Gone forever. And I never even got to tell her. I behaved like a human. Holding it off until the last possible moment, waiting and waiting and waiting until finally it was too late. It's too late. I saw a flash of red from the corner of my eye. a rose. So I stepped back. "Stop and smell the roses," that's what everyone says. Even if it hurts you, even if the thorns prick you. Smell them, appreciate their scent and beauty, before it goes so fleetingly fast. Appreciate it while its there, because you never know when it will be picked, plucked from the ground in front of your eyes, taken to someone who will never know how much that rose meant to you. They'll never know how much that rose meant to me.

"Do you like roses?" Theres a bit of movement to my right. A child. No more than six years old, her home a ways behind her. Oh how blissfully young and sweet and innocent, unaware of how cruel life can be. How unfair, especially for those older, so much older than she.

"I do." A simple answer. She doesn't need to know specifics, I'll be leaving soon, alone, again.

"How much?"

What? How much do I like roses? Oh the bittersweet irony. "More than anyone will ever know."

"Oh." She paused. Looked at me with eyes full of curiosity. "Who are you? And why are you taking my roses?" Taking her... Ah. My hand was reaching toward the base of the rose, as if to pluck it. Now that I realized, I drew my hand back.

"I'm the Doctor. And I'm not taking your rose, dear. I would never take anyone's rose."

"Why?" The innocence she displays is heartbreaking.

"Because I lost my own rose not long ago. I couldn't do it to someone else on purpose." She wrinkled her forehead.

"Was this rose special?" I laughed then. Laughed at the situation, this child, this rose.

"Yes. This rose was very special to me." I paused. I could do this. "Would you like to hear about it?" Her face lit up with excitement. She dropped to the ground, her nightgown probably staining with grass and mud and fallen rose petals. "Yes please." I smiled at the child.

"Very well. I had a rose once. The most beautiful rose in the world. I found... It, on accident, in a very unlikely place. But this rose was special. I couldn't just leave it in a place where it would never grow, blossom, show the world how special of a rose it was. So, I took this rose with me. For much longer than I had intended to. And with me, this rose grew. Grew so much more than you could've imagined. Became beautiful, so much more than any other rose before. I couldn't believe, this simple flower, that I had found in a simple place, could mean so much to me. It was just a flower, right?" The girl nodded enthusiastically, eyes wide. I smiled. "Wrong actually. It was so much more than just a flower. It was a fighter, a champion, against odds that threw themselves against it. This rose was the bravest and strongest rose I have ever encountered. And I'll never forget it for all my days."

"What happened to it?" She whispered to me. As if afraid if she raised her voice I'd stop talking. But I wasn't going to stop now, I had to get this weight, this unbearable sadness off my chest. My hearts were beating wildly.

"She... It was picked." The girl gasped. "I know. I couldn't do anything to stop it. I was trying to help people and it was too far away. She... It was being pulled and I couldn't do... Anything!" I slammed my fist on the ground in sudden anger and the girl scooted back in fear. I smiled reassuringly at her and calmed myself. "I'm sorry I snapped. But like I said, this rose, was very important to me. And when it was... Picked. I didn't know what to do. I no longer had my rose. My very unbelievably special rose. It's gone forever and I can never have it back." I paused. "And that makes me sadder than I've been in a very very long time." She sat there quietly. As did I.

She turned to look at the rose, gazing at it in a new light. For a few moments she was silent. Then she turned to me. "Please don't cry, Doctor. It will be ok. Can't you grow a new rose?" I smiled.

"As I said, this rose was very special. I'll never have another like it."

"Can't you go get it back?"

"I wish I could." I wiped my eyes of tears I hadn't realized had fallen. Then I stood. "Thank you for allowing me to look at your beautiful roses. Make sure you take care of them. Don't make my mistakes, alright?" I smiled and she nodded, a thoughtful look on her face. I turned and started to walk away. A tug on my coat halted me.

As did a small voice that asked me, "did you love her?" This surprised me so i turned back around. She held her hands behind her back, an inquiring look on her small face. She was more insightful than I thought. Or she caught onto the mistakes in my story. She repeated her question. "Did you love her, Doctor? This rose?"

For the last time this night, I smiled at her. Knelt down to her level, put my hand on her slight shoulder and smiled. "Yes. I did. I loved my Rose very, very much."

"Do you miss her?"

"More than I ever thought I would."

"I miss my mom too. Here." She held out her small hand. In it was the rose I had almost picked earlier. She held it carefully, lovingly, like she was afraid it would break before being transferred into my hand. "Please. It's my best one. I'd very much like you to have it..." She paused. "It's not your rose exactly, but it's still special." A tear fell as I took the flower from this girl, who knew so little and yet so much.

"Thank you. Thank you so much." She grinned then. Then she turned and ran back to her house. The back of her dress was stained. I stared after her. Humans never cease to amaze me. Such a small child, oblivious of the world, of hardships and hate and war and everything that's wrong with this planet. Yet in just a few minutes, she showed me that despite her young age she already knows so much about love, about missing someone who can never come back.

I know now in my hearts that I will never forget this. And I know what I have to do. I will see my Rose again. Someday. And I'll tell her what I need to tell her, what she needs to hear. I say it over and over, under my breathe, as I start the TARDIS. I repeat it as a whisper, practicing until I see her one final time... "Rose Tyler, I love you."


End file.
